Duck Lake boca loba

Sandy gloves against green ground he walked. Patrolling a little further from the borders. His wounds no longer scabs, but scars now, that colored his pelage a different hue. He felt like his father's son now, in a strange way. He had, in a sense became the viking he had always thought more so felt he was.

Kind eyes in wizened face, he shifted and continued on. He would only go so far, and then return. With Sanja newly awake, he did not wish to leave her far or for long. It seemed unsightly.

A figure in the distance caught his attention and he chuffed and then stopped, watching, waiting. Wary.